


why don't you do right? (like some other gals do)

by raspbirry_pancakes



Series: the melodies [3]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, Crime Fighting, M/M, secret agent AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-10
Updated: 2019-08-10
Packaged: 2020-08-13 04:22:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20168071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raspbirry_pancakes/pseuds/raspbirry_pancakes
Summary: Virgil wasn’t really the crime-fighter type in the slightest, no that was more of Logan’s or Thomas’s expertise, and despite this, he found himself trudging to a dimly-lit bar on the wrong side of town late at night. In his pocket he carried a tape recorder, his phone that was no doubt dropping his GPS coordinates every few minutes, and a concealed pistol, just in case things went south.





	why don't you do right? (like some other gals do)

Virgil wasn’t really the crime-fighter type in the slightest, no that was more of Logan’s or Thomas’s expertise, and despite this, he found himself trudging to a dimly-lit bar on the wrong side of town late at night. In his pocket he carried a tape recorder, his phone that was no doubt dropping his GPS coordinates every few minutes, and a concealed pistol, just in case things went south.

Virgil was terrified, not that that was unusual in the slightest, but this time it was different. _Much_ different. Instead of the mild anxiety that usually coursed through his veins, pestering him to watch where he was going and to be cautious in new situations, he felt full-bodied fear that made him hyper-aware of his surroundings, paranoid of the people milling past him.

He hadn’t wanted this assignment, hell, part of the agreement he had signed with Thomas when he joined the agency was that he would never be out on the field, especially not alone, but this meeting was imperative and, should it go well, a heavy threat could be terminated.

To say Virgil felt no pressure would be a lie.

Virgil pushed his way through the crowd, earning himself a few dirty looks from other people impatiently waiting to head into the nightclub. The bouncer- an undercover agent such as himself named Joan- nodded slightly in greeting and allowed him to pass into The Twisted Serpent, a luxurious nightclub notorious for servicing the biggest names in the area and some, shall we say, _less than legal business owners._

Virgil made his way inside, tipping his hat a little further down his face when he got a few curious looks, and slid into a seat in the first vacant table he found, which was coincidentally in the very center of the room, just in front of the stage.

He ordered a drink as he waited for the show to begin, relieved that his mission was going smoothly so far. From here, all he had to do was wait until after the show and meet the informant Sanders had mentioned, a redhead who insisted on being called Ravishing Red. Virgil’s own codename was Anxiety, given to him during his first day on the job from his coworker, Patton, aka Morality. That had been a few years ago and Virgil still hadn’t had the heart to tell him he hated it. The other members of SIDES (“Sanders Sides” as Patton liked to call them, a reference to their employer, Thomas Sanders) were mostly secret, the few Virgil knew about consisted of Logan Axton, Remy Bradley, Patton Hart, and himself.

Virgil fidgeted with his sleeves before forcing himself to stop, mentally berating himself. He was supposed to look inconspicuous, but if he kept it up with his nervous habits, someone might pick up on the fact that he shouldn’t be here.

His mind began to swim with nerves, Virgil only managing to pull himself back together when he heard the soft _clink_ of his drink being placed in front of him. He sipped it gingerly, already hating the taste, but liking the way his thoughts began to quiet down.

Virgil absentmindedly studied his outfit, wondering if he looked casual enough. He was dressed in a dark suit and hat, though that wasn’t an unpopular style these days so no worries there, the only outlier of his dark clothing being his violet tie that matched his eyes. Red had asked of this specifically, needing a tell to separate the undercover agent from the rest of the crowd.

As the room began to flood with people, women and men alike taking a seat wherever and on whatever they could, Virgil’s heartbeat thudded louder, the previous calmness from his drink quickly dissipating. This sort of job wasn’t his usual kind of work that he did for the SIDES (the Security and Intelligence Division of Everyone’s Safety), preferring instead to watch from the sidelines and help out from where he could back at headquarters. Normally, one of the others would be here in his place, but Logan was nearly compromised when he tried, and Patton and Remy were preoccupied with a mission in Atlanta, leaving him to do the mission alone.

The stage suddenly dimmed, the brilliant spotlight aimed for the center making Virgil’s eyes hurt. Excited whispers and loud shushing filled the room as the curtain drew back, revealing a man with his back facing the crowd, a silver microphone gleaming in his hand.

“Oh my god it’s Roman!”

“That’s Roman Prince!”

“He’s way too good to be a small-town singer-”

“God, he’s gorgeous!”

“I can’t believe we’re here!”

“Shut up, I don’t want to miss this!”

The shushing audience members won in the end, no one daring to make a sound as the pianist began playing a low tune.

_“I got plenty money in 1922, you let other rich men make a fool of you.”_

Virgil’s breath caught in his throat as the man’s low voice washed over him, simultaneously quieting and short-circuiting all his anxieties at once like nothing else ever could.

_“Why don’t you do right, like some other gals do?”_

Roman turned as he continued, giving the audience a glimpse of his face. The greenest eyes Virgil had ever seen was hidden under a wave of dark red hair, his pale pink lips curving nicely as he sang.

_“Let’s get out of here, I’ve got some money for you,”_ Roman knelt on the corner of the stage to tuck a folded bill between a girl’s parted lips, pushing her mouth closed around it with a gentle finger. The girl accepted it with wide eyes, Roman winking at her as he stood back up.

He began making his way down the stage, his red-sequined jacket attracting attention with every step. Roman began unbuttoning his jacket revealing an opened, blood red silk vest that exposed stretches of tanned skin. Virgil didn’t think he could look away if he tried. 

_“You’re sitting there, wondering what it’s all about… if you ain’t got no money, they will put you out.” _

He slowed near the edge of the stage where a woman was sitting, her fingers idly tracing the rim of her bright drink, dark hair cascading down her shoulders and onto her cleavage that wasn’t covered by her too-short dress.

Virgil could tell just by the look of her that she was very wealthy, her clothes, as small as they were, were clearly expensive, and he had a feeling Roman knew that too, just by the way he was favoring her. He stopped, taking her hand in his, and gingerly pressed a kiss to it, continuing to sing against her skin.

_“Why don’t you do right, like some other gals do?” _

He rubbed his thumb against the back of her hand, slowly releasing it after a pause. He turned away from her table as she grinned, proudly holding up the bill he had left in her grasp as if it were a trophy, the other patrons scowling around her.

Virgil expected Roman to go to another wealthy young lady, him no doubt being the cause of most of the club’s popularity, but to his surprise, Roman stopped in front of a man’s table.

The man’s face flushed as Roman sat onto the corner of the table closest to him, crossing his legs and leaning forward to trace his fingertips up the man’s shirt. His hands played with his purple tie, though they didn’t stay occupied for long, choosing to slide up the man’s body until Roman was cupping his cheek.

The man was practically drooling at this point, Roman still singing in his slow, sultry voice as he dusted his fingers all over him, eventually coming to a rest on the man’s dark hat. In a quick move, Roman dropped his hat onto his own head, the raucous color making his hair stand out even more.

Virgil’s breath hitched as Roman tugged on the man’s tie, pulling him close, their faces nearly touching as Roman practically purred out another line. 

_“Let’s get out of here, I’ve got some money for you.”_

A young man near Virgil swallowed harshly and loosened his tie, downing his drink in one go as he stared, unblinking, at the scene. Virgil couldn’t even find it in himself to judge the poor guy, he himself was having trouble maintaining his composure at the sight.

Roman released his tie, and leaned back a little, creating a distance between the two of them, yet not making a move to leave.

_“Now if you had prepared twenty years ago, you wouldn’t be wandering now from door to door.”_

The man, bolder than any man had any right to be in that situation, reached up to touch Roman. His hand was nearly a third of the way up to his neck where a lavender bowtie was wrapped around Roman’s throat, when he was stopped.

_“Why don’t you do right, like some other gals do?”_ Roman pushed away his hand with a light touch, raising his index finger and tilting it back and forth to indicate ‘no touching.’

The man’s face reddened, looking guiltier than a literal diamond thief being caught in the act, which Virgil unfortunately knows a thing or two about, and mumbled a few apologies. Roman looked undeterred, his smile as seductive as ever, and placed the hat back on the owner’s head with a wink and made his way to the next lucky person.

Roman shrugged off his jacket effortlessly, tugging it over his shoulder and turning to another redhead who was staring at him hungrily. He smiled but didn’t stop at her table, surprising Virgil who had thought the extra attention would’ve been right up his alley. 

Roman’s eyes scanned the crowd, as if looking for someone in particular. With a confident smirk, he headed to a table where three patrons were sitting, two who appeared to be actively enjoying the show and the third who sat stiffly, an annoyed expression on her face.

_“Let’s get out of here, I’ve got some money for you.”_

Roman stopped in front of her, his empty hand resting on the table in front of her, allowing him to lean down on it, drifting into the girl’s space. The girl looked surprised at his sudden close proximity, his body leaning close to hers as he sang slowly. Her reaction was immediate, cheeks flaring red with a heavy blush as her eyes widened prettily, breath caught in her throat.

_“Let’s get out of here, I’ve got some money for you,”_ he murmured once more, this time a near silent whisper.

Roman traced his gloved fingers under the girl’s cheek, her rigid stance falling apart under his touch. Virgil was almost startled at how much he resented her in that moment, wishing he were in her place instead.

As if reading his mind, Roman caught his gaze, emerald eyes boring into his own violet ones. His smile seemed to grow even more captivating as he made his way over to Virgil’s table, hips swinging slowly as he approached.

Virgil could feel his heart thumping wildly in his chest as the redhead came closer, his enchanting smile making him feel like time had stopped. Roman forewent the delicate touches the others had received, and in a quick move, slid into Virgil’s lap.

_“Why don’t you do right-”_

Virgil could hear a few jealous gasps from other people in the crowd, but paid them no mind as Roman’s weight comfortably settled onto him. Virgil felt dizzy at his touch, biting his lower lip as Roman ran his gloved hands down his shirt, his face leaning very close to Virgil’s own.

_“-like some other gals...”_ Roman practically mouthed against his cheek, ghosting his lips over the shell of his ear. He was so entranced he almost missed Roman covering his microphone with a gloved hand.

The whisper was barely audible but it raised goosebumps on Virgil’s skin all the same:

**“Meet me after the show, Anx.”**

Roman then smiled, backing away from Virgil’s personal space, which he really wouldn’t have minded being invaded again, to sing the final line.

_“Do~”_

And just like that, Roman was standing up and returning to the stage, Virgil already missing his warmth. Roman turned to the audience one last time, immediately catching Virgil’s eye, and winked, blowing a single kiss in his direction before the pianist finished playing and the curtain dropped.

The roar of the crowd pulled Virgil out of his daze, and he waited a few moments to catch his breath, idly sipping his drink in an attempt to calm himself down.

So this was Ravishing Red.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Chris Villain's cover of 'Why Don't You Do Right?' https://www.youtube.com/watch?time_continue=133&v=Cu7JVbdYYnM


End file.
